Sorry about the absolute;ly unacceptable delay on this chapter. Life was going on and I just couldn't seem to find any time. Although while on hiatus I managed to write up to chapter 11, so that's goodish. Anywho, go forth and enjoy this long overdue chapter! Disclaimer- I own a cup of tea, which is probably as close as I will ever get to owning the rights to these shows. :/
In Which The Doctor Is A Twat, Toshiko Is Poetic, And I Got Yelled At For Making Jack Too Sad
~oOo~
As the Torchwood team would discover over the course of the next seven hours, Owen's flippant remark about them having plenty of down time had not been taken by the Universe as an open opportunity to summon Chathulu and wreak havoc on Cardiff.
Instead, the Rift had settled on being completely inactive, leaving the team to go off and perform their respective duties.
Namely, working on artifacts that had come through the Rift and polishing off the pizza.
Gwen typed the last word on her file to report an artifact, what was apparently a hairdryer from Calyspsus, and stood up from her computer, reaching towards the sole piece of pizza in the box that had somehow managed to migrate over to her desk over the course of the last few hours. Just as she was about to grab it, she withdrew her hand, glancing around the Hub.
"Does anybody know if he's eaten?" She asked nobody in particular. Owen's voice sounded from where he was working in the medlab.
"Don't think so." He answered.
"Alright then." Said Gwen, grabbing the piece and placing it on what was (hopefully) an unimportant piece of paper. She made her way down the stairs, entering the dimly lit hallway that contained the holding cells. Walking down the hallway, she came to the last cell and turned towards it, finding herself locking eye with the Doctor who was sitting in the corner of his cell, holding several small devices that were coupled with other slight technological pieces.
"What?" He asked shortly, returning his attention back to a small, cubish shaped object.
Gwen blinked before answering.
"I brought you some food." She said after a moment, motioning to the box she held in hand.
The Doctor glanced up to Gwen and gave a noncommittal grunt.
"Fantastic." He muttered. Gwen arched an eyebrow.
"Do you want it or not?" She asked shortly.
"Nope," The Doctor dismissed without so much as a second thought on the matter.
"I'm sorry?" Asked Gwen, slightly thrown.
"Don't want it." Said the Time Lord, adjusting something on his cube with what appeared to be a metal torch with a blue light. "YOu can go ahead and leave me alone now."
"You've eaten today, then?"
"Yep." The Doctor replied, fiddling with wires on his haphazard contraption.
Liar, thought Gwen. From what Owen had said earlier, unbeknownst to the Doctor who'd been unconscious at the time, the Time Lord hadn't been eating properly for quite some time. And given Jack's reaction to the medical doctor's news, the Doctor's current habits weren't exactly unusual.
But if he didn't want what Gwen was offering, she most certainly wasn't going to force it on him.
"...What's that?" She asked after a short minute of silence between the both of them.
"A thing."
"What does it do?" Gwen tried again.
"Stuff." The Doctor snapped.
Gwen took a step closer to the clear walls of the cell and forcefully slammed a hand against it, resulting in a solid thud, causing the Doctor to jump slightly, focusing on the Torchwood agent instead of his device.
"You'll bloody well tell me what it does before I drag Jack down here." She threatened.
"S' not dangerous." The Doctor muttered.
"Then you won't mind enlightening me."
The Doctor sighed and placed the device to his side.
"It detects spatial Time-Space disturbances." He explained, exasperated.
"Like the Rift." Gwen deciphered after a few moments. The Doctor nodded once, barely acknowledging what she had said. "What are you doing that for?"
The Time Lord fixed Gwen with a hard stare.
"Does it look like I have anything else to do?" He asked scathingly.
"...No."
"Point proven. I'm bored out of my bloody mind."
"...Alright. I'll leave you to it, then." Said Gwen, turning away from the Doctor and towards the hallway's exit.
"...Fine by me." The Doctor called. Gwen climbed the stair wordlessly, leaving the Time Lord alone once more.
Good. He liked it better that way.
~oOo~
"He's being a right prat." Gwen announced upon arriving at the main level of Torchwood.
"How's that then?" Asked Martha.
"He- He just is." Gwen answered as she set the pizza box back on her desk.
"Hmm. Did he take the food?" Owen inquired.
"Nope."
"Did he mouth off to you?"
"Yep."
"Is he a bloody mess right now?"
"Not quite." Replied Gwen, corners of her mouth turning upwards very slightly despite herself. "He's building stuff though."
"What type of stuff?" Asked Toshiko from her computer.
"Well he said that it was a spatial Time-Space disturbance detector," Said Gwen. "To find out if anything is happening with the Rift."
"But he could be lying." Ianto supplied from across the room, arms full of papers as he worked his way over towards the stairs that led to the archives.
"I doubt it." Said somebody. Gwen glanced up to where the voice was coming from, eyes landing Jack, who had somehow escaped his office and appeared on the balcony without alerting anyone. How he could sneak around with that giant coat and still manage to be completely silent escaped Gwen.
Jack continued.
"He doesn't lie very much. Never really been his style unless it was absolutely far he hasn't lied to us, no reason for him to start now." He paused. "Besides, he a genius, locked up in a cellar. Needed something to do."
Slowly, Gwen nodded. Jack's analysis of the situation made sense, actually.
"So you think that what he's building really does just detect Rift activity?"
"Pretty positive."
"And you're sure that your judgement isn't being, say, altered, by anything, Jack?" Owen questioned, clearly skeptical.
"Completely." Jack replied, voice somewhat detached. "Whatever history we had between us has been...Thrown out the window."
An uneasy silence enveloped the room, broken only by small noises of shuffling footsteps from Ianto. After a moment, Jack cleared his throat.
"Right then," He said, inhaling sharply. "Nothing's happened so far, chances are that nothing will happen tonight, we might as well call it a day. No use in keeping all you here when you don't need to be."
Taking Jack's words as the clear dismissal that they were, the rest of the Torchwood team began to pack up their things with greater speed than usual.
"You staying at my place tonight, Jack?" Ianto inquired. Jack shook his head.
"I'l stay here." He replied. "Keep an eye on things."
"Right. Martha?"
"Tom's down here, actually, Ianto. Found us a motel." Martha answered. Ianto nodded.
"Back to normal then." He said.
"More or less." Martha agreed.
"And there we are then." Said Jack, an air of impatience entering his voice as he clasped his hands together. "Off you go, get some sleep, eat some food." 'Get out of the Hub', was the unspoken but strikingly obvious end to the sentence.
Gwen shot Tosh an uneasy glance and picked up her bag, walking towards the Hub's exit, the rest of the team, save Owen who was still packing up his bag in the medlab, following behind her, leaving the Hub. Owen zipped up the last pocket in his bag and started towards the door, glancing up at Jack for a short moment before he left.
"Try to avoid killing him tonight, alright, Jack?" He mentioned flippantly. Other than a hard stare, Jack gave no response. Owen shrugged slightly and threw his bag over his shoulder and walked silently out the door, leaving Jack alone on the balcony.
And for the first time in over a century, the Immortal felt truly alone.
~oOo~
Jack pushed off the balcony guard rail and spun around to his office, stalking in, and slammed the door with such force that the glass around it shuddered. He paced around his office, trying to clear his mind, trying to think straight, but finding it to be nearly impossible. His thoughts were everywhere at once, no organization or links between them other than the fact that they kept echoing in his head, reminding him, that he was alone.
Before, it had been manageable. His immortality, that was. It had been hard and painful and heartbreaking at times, but it had been mostly manageable because he knew that the Doctor was still out there. The only man in the universe that Jack would never use. So he'd kept trudging on.
And then, today, the only bit of certainty he'd had in his life had been ripped away. The Doctor had shown up, changed, hating Jack and everything else.
It hurt. It really did. Because while his team was loyal, and though they were his friends, he knew that they would eventually die and leave him on his own. Again. That's how it always happened, how it had been happening for well over a century. And the only thing that had kept him from completely losing it most of the time had been the reassurance that he had one friend that he would never lose, no matter how long he lived. His knowing that he would have one person to face the demons of the universe with, side by side, always.
But the universe just couldn't seem to leave well enough alone with him.
After a good long while of pacing, and countless laps around his desk, Jack collapsed onto his bed, burying his face into his hands.
He couldn't do this anymore, he didn't want to do this anymore.
He wanted to have a normal life, with normal friends, and normal problems, even if it was just for a little while.
But that could never happen.
Instead, Jack curled up on himself in his bed, retreated into the warmth of his coat, and sobbed.
~oOo~
Ianto Jones unlocked his flat and stepped in, flicking on a single light as he did so. He took off the top to his suit and draped it over his arm as he walked down the hallway, eventually coming to a stop at the door that led to his room. Pushing it open, he walked in, folding the suit top up and placing it neatly on his nightstand. He sat on his bed and brought a foot up, beginning to untie his shoes, allowing for his thoughts to wander freely over the previous events of the day.
Instead of focusing on the any number of dramatic happenings that had taken place that day, almost getting shot being one, his thoughts were fixated on Jack.
Jack, who had always claimed for the alien who had apparently just shown up in the Hub to be his friend, mentor, whatever the hell you wanted to call it, over the years that Ianto had known him. Jack, who had later proceeded to beat that very same man unconscious. Jack, who had denied Ianto's offers of coming back to his flat, preferring to stay at the Hub by himself instead.
Placing his now untied shoes on the floor next to his bed, the Welshman changed out of his still sharply creased pants and button up shirt, putting on a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt in their place before turning off the light and falling into his bed.
Empty without a certain enigmatic Captain beside him.
~oOo~
Martha stopped in front of a door at a motel complex, checking the number that had been painted onto it, a great number of years ago if it's current condition was anything to go by.
37.
The same number that Tom had texted her, along with some other information, to let her know where he was. Martha knocked at the door a few times.
"Tom?" She called through the wood. A few moments later the doorknob twisted and the door was pulled open, revealing Tom.
"Hey, Martha." He greeted, scanning her up and down, no doubt trying to pick up some clues as to what he had been called all the way down to Cardiff for.
"Hey, Tom." Martha replied, stepping forwards, through the doorway and into Tom, embracing him tightly. Tom hesitated for a split second then returned the hug, rubbing soothing circles on Martha;s back as he did so.
"What's all this about then?" He inquired.
No response, save Martha gripping him tighter than before.
He could work with that.
"Come on." He said gently, leading Martha inside of the sparse motel room, empty aside from a bed and a television set. Martha followed, not taking her eyes ff Tom the entire time.
He led her over to the bed and sat down with her, continuing to wrap what he hoped to be a reassuring hug around her shoulders.
"What happened?" He asked softly. Martha hesitated a moment, taking a deep breath to try to calm herself. She'd been strong all day, there was no reason for her to break down now.
"He-" She started before breaking off, words choked. To hell with being strong. "He's not himself anymore!" She exclaimed, voice cracking as she did so. She let out a strangled noise and worked er way closer to Tom. Slowly, gently, Tom lay down atop the mattress, bringing Martha with him as he pulled the bed sheets over both of them. Martha gave a shuddering breath and wrapped both arms around Tom once more, resting her head on his chest.
Some people thought them an odd pair; She, the slightly shorter African-American girl, and he, the tall and lanky Japanese man, the both of them sharing the same profession as doctors at UNIT.
But as Martha listened to Tom's steady breathing and drowsiness began to overtake her, lulling her into a sleep, she couldn't think of anything in the universe that was more natural than this.
~oOo~
Toshiko Sato entered her flat, mind whirling with the events of the day.
What had happened to turn the Doctor into what he was? When she had talked to him, four years ago by now, he had seemed like such a kind man. From the way Jack talked about him, he had sounded like the impossible savior of the universe.
And look what had happened to him.
Tosh removed her coat and draped it on the back of a chair so that she could grab it the next morning. Walking through her hallway, she pushed the door to her room open and entered. She changed into her night clothes and lay in her bed, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling.
Her specialty in life was computers and technology. She could write and rewrite code faster than most people could check their emails.
Computers were constant. If something was wrong with them there was one cause and one solution. They ran on numbers and equations and always stayed the same.
The last thought Toshiko had before falling into unconsciousness was that it was a terrible shame that there were no such equations for people.
~oOo~
Owen Harper entered his flat and closed the door behind him. He walked over to his couch and collapsed onto it, running both of his hands through his hair, causing it to stick up on end slightly.
Torchwood, he knew, could be a batshit crazy place at times. But this? A past hero turned bad showing up just as some God forsaken aliens were figuring out how to come through the Rift? Was that really necessary?
Or was the universe just screwing with them again?
Shaking his head in an only slightly futile attempt to clear his mind, Owen groped around for a moment before his hand found the remote he had been looking for, and he switched on the telly. He flipped through channels for a few minutes, eventually settling on a show that seemed to focus on two brothers who were hunting a demon of some type.
Owen set the remote beside him and leaned back into the couch, devoting his full attention to the show, which was now depicting what was apparently an angel.
Still.
Focusing on this had top be better than focusing on what was really going on in his life.\\
~oOo~
In his cell, the Doctor worked. Not like he had too much of a choice, what with his injuries, ribs in particular, causing him some degree of pain every time he so much dared as to breathe. Turning away from these particular thoughts, he returned to his project. He soniced it, and adjusted one last wire before he finally placed the screwdriver back into his coat pocket and held the contraption in front of him.
It looked quite messy overall. Wires sticking out in every direction, resistors and capacitors right alongside them, one LED light protruding slightly further out than the rest of the wires.
Satisfied with the finished device, the Doctor set it by his side, letting his hands follow suite, leaning his head against the hard concrete wall, allowing for his eyes to close.
Just to close, mind you.
He wasn't going to actually sleep. He'd gone for days without it, and he didn't need to for at least another couple.
He tried not to sleep anymore.
Not when his dreams (nightmares) were filled with earlier regenerations of himself, now cold and disappointed with him. Not when his old frien- companions were always there, horrified.
Not when he could still remember the man he used to be.
I honestly hope the three-month wait was worth it for that chapter, though it probably wasn't. I will honestly try to post the next one a lot sooner. In the (hopefully short) meanwhile, why not leave a review? Even if you don't, thanks a ton for reading, have a fantastic day, and DFTBA!